


i'm just returning the favor

by dcb_z



Category: Hyper Light Drifter
Genre: Bandaging, Fluff, M/M, drifter doesnt know how to cuddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26114422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcb_z/pseuds/dcb_z
Summary: Drifters are typically an independent sort of folk. But sometimes, it's nice to open up a little.
Relationships: The Drifter & The Guardian (Hyper Light Drifter), The Drifter/The Guardian (Hyper Light Drifter)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a smol gift for 0shi0ki of the HLD discord, whose charming art style i love and who drew the pic that inspired this fic.

Drifter emerged from the underground elevator and peered up at the sky. It had been tinged orange by the setting sun, which now drew long shadows over the ground. Another day gone. He’d collected a module and had a few more gearbits in his pockets, so it wasn’t a loss. The sprite at his shoulder projected a map and Drifter punched in the location of the warp pad outside of his and Guardian’s apartment. Kneeling as the command finished loading, the all-too-familiar spinning sensation came over him as the teleport kicked in.

Seconds later, he was walking up to the door of the building. The echoes of the scraping metal were sent down the hallway as they closed behind Drifter. His sprite moved ahead of him, unlocking and opening the door to the apartment. Drifter could see the lights of the apartment on, signalling that Guardian was home. He thought so, at least. He liked to think he was getting better about not leaving the lights on all the time.

Guardian was, in fact, home; what’s more, they were wounded. They were in the chair beside the workbench, their fur-trimmed cape half-down, and their left sleeve rolled up as far as it would go. It looked as though they were struggling to bandage their upper arm on their own. Guardian casts a sheepish glance at Drifter as he walks in.

_ “You’re hurt,”  _ Drifter signs plainly.

“It’s nothing.”

Drifter lays his sword and gun on the kitchen table and crosses to Guardian. There was certainly a lot of blood for something that was ‘nothing.’

“Don’t worry about it,” Guardian insists, catching the inquisitive look in Drifter’s eyes. “Get yourself something to eat.”

Undeterred, Drifter pulls up a chair beside Guardian.  _ “Let me,”  _ he motions.  _ “You’re doing a terrible job with the bandages on your own.” _

That, at least, earns him a chuckle. “I don’t see why you’re so insistent.”

Drifter’s hands had already set to work on deftly bandaging Guardian’s arm, making the larger drifter wince as the bandage was quickly tied off. “I’m only returning the favor,” he replied, voice quiet yet hoarse. He recalled all too well when he’d passed out in the North and found himself waking up-- masterfully bandaged thanks to Guardian-- in this place. 

Guardian gives a few stretches and flexes of his arm to test Drifter’s work, then looks down at him. “Thank you,” they say.

“I owe you for helping me.”

Guardian shakes their head. “You don’t owe me anything.” Gently, they take Drifter’s hand in theirs. Drifter always relished the few and far between times that he could feel his slender fingers caught up in Guardian’s. The gesture never failed to bring a smile to his lips and a flush to his cheeks.

“I’d be dead without you,” Drifter objects, glancing off to the side. Guardian had yet to notice one of his blushes, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change. “So… I’d say I owe you at least a round of bandaging.”

They do, however, notice Drifter’s nervous gesture. As if to test it, they squeeze his hand a little tighter. If Drifter’s blush was invisible before, it certainly isn’t now. “Don’t worry about it. Really.” Guardian’s voice is a smooth, reassuring murmur now, and it’s enough to convince Drifter to look up at them. Their striking blue eyes, somehow visible beneath the shadow of their helmet, are fixated on Drifter.

Their hands are still together between them. “I’m surprised you don’t mind the contact,” Guardian remarks.

Drifter’s ears only burn more at this. He’s silent for several aching moments before finally saying, “I don’t mind it so much with you.”

Guardian lets go of his hands, and he worries that they’re going to pull away entirely. Instead, they take Drifter somewhere along his hips and waist and pull him in close. Drifter is surprised at how easily their bodies come together, leaving him straddling Guardian’s lap. “What about this?”

It takes Drifter a moment to find his words, so briefly overwhelmed is he at the contact. “It’s-- it’s fine,” he stammers. “It’s nice.”

He swears he can see the drifter beneath him smile somewhere within their helmet. “Then I’ll consider my ‘favor’ repaid if we can just sit like this for a bit.” It certainly sounds like they’re smiling as they speak, and Drifter can’t deny that the words seem to make his heart skip a beat for a reason he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Okay.” He doesn’t move for a moment. “Uh-- how do I do this?”

Guardian lets out a small laugh. “Here,” they say, guiding Drifter so his arms draped over their shoulders. “Now lean forward.”

Drifter does, and finds himself comfortably nestled against Guardian’s body, his helmet resting against their own. “Oh.” He inhales slowly, taking in Guardian’s scent. Somehow, everything about this moment feels  _ right _ . “This… is nice,” he whispers as Guardian gently holds him in return.

“Mm,” Guardian hummed, their deep voice even more pleasant now that Drifter was closer.

Drifter closes his eyes, letting his muscles relax. He hadn't realized just how tired he was before; but now, with Guardian’s arms around him and with his head resting comfortably on their shoulder, it doesn’t take him long to drift off into a half-sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally just gonna be only the first chapter but. the people wanted smooching and i must provide

“Drifter?” A far-off voice murmured his name. He could feel someone nudging his body. “Drifter…?”

Drifter opens his eyes and makes a sleepy noise in reply. 

“...when I said ‘for a bit,’ I can’t say I was expecting you to fall asleep on me,” Guardian remarks as Drifter sits up, his hands still resting on Guardian’s shoulders.

_ “How long was I asleep?”  _ Drifter signs, then rubs his eyes.

“Fifteen minutes or so, maybe.”

_ “Sorry.” _

“Don’t apologize.” Guardian moves their hands to the small of Drifter’s back, pulling him closer until the fronts of their helmets touch. Drifter sees their eyes close and closes his own in return. They’re close, so close, close enough for Drifter to faintly feel Guardian’s steady exhale on his skin.

An idea slips into his head. His eyes, opening a little now, glance at Guardian’s lips, and he wonders how it might feel to press his own to them. But his skin crawls a little at the idea of letting Guardian see him without his helmet on, and he’s sure that the other drifter feels the same way.

“It’s getting late,” Guardian finally sighs, breaking the intimate silence. Their blue eyes open, and Drifter quickly pulls his gaze from their lips.

Drifter leans back enough to sign a reply.  _ “I should get up then.” _ He moves to climb off of Guardian’s lap, but stops when Guardian grips his hips.

“...actually…” They seem internally conflicted over their thoughts and trail off no sooner than they started. Drifter waits in their lap, tilting his head slightly to the side. Guardian swallows, then finally spits out what they wanted to say. “Maybe we could share the bed this time?”

Drifter pauses, then raises his brow a little.  _ “Are you sure?”  _ Surprisingly, he didn’t find himself opposed to the idea. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he just took a nap whilst nestled up against them. 

“I am.” Another pause, then a nod of consent from Drifter.

Guardian lifts him easily, and Drifter is surprised by how readily he finds himself wrapping his legs and arms around them. He’s far from a fan of being carried by people, but something about Guardian’s grip feels  _ safe _ . They carry him to the bedroom, reaching over to click off the lights as they enter.

The door slides shut behind them, plunging them into an intimate darkness. Guardian starts walking to the bed, then stops as Drifter presses his helmet to theirs. Drifter’s heart is pounding and he wonders for a moment if Guardian can hear it. Or maybe they can feel it. Regardless, something about this moment, this closeness, has Drifter’s mind clouded with thoughts of pressing his lips to theirs: how nice it might feel, how soft they might be, how much closer Guardian might pull him in. He wants to pull their helmet off and find out for himself what it’d be like to feel all of that.

Slowly, timidly, Drifter shifts in Guardian’s arms, just enough to slip a thumb under their helmet and brush it over their lips. Guardian seems to balk slightly at the gesture, but doesn’t completely withdraw; instead, they gently set Drifter on his feet. But Drifter doesn’t let go of them, instead hooking the fingers of his other hand under the neck of Guardian’s armor, keeping them bent over more to his own level.

He can’t see them like this, not with the pitch darkness of the bedroom. But he doesn’t need to see them to feel them lift their hands to their helmet and pull it off. “Is that what you wanted?” Guardian asks, voice hushed.

“I think so.” He stands on his tiptoes, hands on either side of Guardian’s face, claws lightly resting on their skin. Slowly, he leans in and tries to kiss them.

He misses the first time, ending up somewhere below and to the side of their lips. But Guardian catches on fast-- had probably  _ already _ caught on long ago-- and turns their head to meet him on the second try. He feels a hand on his waist steady him along with a hand on the back of his helmet keep him close. He’s grateful for it, because the feeling of Guardian’s lips against his is enough to make him feel woozy on his feet. Drifter can’t help but let his fingers dig in a bit more to Guardian’s face as he drinks in the kiss; in kind, Guardian’s lips work slow and gentle against Drifter’s as if to both savor and teach him. Although they hide it well, Drifter can sense that they’re just as eager about this as himself.

Countless lifetimes too soon, Guardian pulls away from the kiss and hovers oh-so-close to Drifter’s lips. He doesn’t want this to end. Not yet, at least. His claws dig in unintentionally as he pulls Guardian back in, planting a brief, firm one on them. Guardian returns it, then breaks away again. “Drifter,” they murmur, a little breathless. “We both need to rest.”

Drifter exhales slowly. His heart is still racing, and he can feel himself itching to keep going. He wonders if perhaps Guardian is worried about getting carried away-- whatever that might entail. He can’t deny being a little excited to find out sometime. But he pushes these feelings down, trying to compose himself, trying to quiet the fluttering feeling inside of himself. “Right.”

At length, he lets go of Guardian and makes his way blindly to the bed. He finds it and is immediately grateful for the darkness that keeps Guardian from seeing him nearly trip and fall onto it. He quickly undresses: first his boots, then his skirt, his cloaks, and finally his helmet, which is quickly replaced by wrapping one of his cloaks around his head to keep himself covered. Even with everything that’s happened, he isn’t ready to let Guardian see him without anything on his head. On the other side of the bed, he can hear Guardian similarly undressing.

Left with just his shirt, pants, and head covering now, Drifter slips underneath the blankets, leaving ample room for Guardian to join him in the bed. He quickly discovers that he shouldn’t have bothered: as soon as Guardian is under the covers with him, Drifter feels them reaching for him, inviting him closer. With scarcely a moment’s hesitation, Drifter scoots in, smiling warmly as he feels Guardian’s arms wrap around him.

Once again, that feeling of safety from before washes over his body. Drifter squirms a bit, trying to figure out how to get comfortable while this close to someone. It doesn’t take him long to figure out where his arms and legs are meant to go. Guardian, thankfully, gives him a wide berth to get the hang of things.

“Comfortable?” they ask once he’s finally settled.

“Yeah,” Drifter whispers, face buried against Guardian. “I am.”


End file.
